Psalms 42
1 To victorie, to the sones of Chore. As an hert desirith to the wellis of watris; so thou, God, my soule desirith to thee.
As the hart pants after the water brooks, so pants my soul after you, O God.
2 Mi soule thirstide to God, `that is a `quik welle; whanne schal Y come, and appere bifor the face of God?
My soul thirsts for God, for the living God: when shall I come and appear before God?
3 Mi teeris weren looues to me bi dai and nyyt; while it is seid to me ech dai, Where is thi God?
My tears have been my meat day and night, while they continually say to me, Where is your God?
4 I bithouyte of these thingis, and Y schedde out in me my soule; for Y schal passe in to the place of the wondurful tabernacle, til to the hows of God. In the vois of ful out ioiyng and knoulechyng; is the sown of the etere.
When I remember these things, I pour out my soul in me: for I had gone with the multitude, I went with them to the house of God, with the voice of joy and praise, with a multitude that kept holy day.
5 Mi soule, whi art thou sory; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; he is the helthe of my cheer,
Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disquieted in me? hope you in God: for I shall yet praise him for the help of his countenance.
6 and my God. My soule is disturblid at my silf; therfor, God, Y schal be myndeful of thee fro the lond of Jordan, and fro the litil hil Hermonyim.
O my God, my soul is cast down within me: therefore will I remember you from the land of Jordan, and of the Hermonites, from the hill Mizar.
7 Depthe clepith depthe; in the vois of thi wyndows. Alle thin hiye thingis and thi wawis; passiden ouer me.
Deep calls to deep at the noise of your waterspouts: all your waves and your billows are gone over me.
8 The Lord sente his merci in the dai; and his song in the nyyt.
Yet the LORD will command his loving kindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer to the God of my life.
9 At me is a preier to the God of my lijf; Y schal seie to God, Thou art my `takere vp. Whi foryetist thou me; and whi go Y sorewful, while the enemy turmentith me?
I will say to God my rock, Why have you forgotten me? why go I mourning because of the oppression of the enemy?
10 While my boonys ben brokun togidere; myn enemyes, that troblen me, dispiseden me. While thei seien to me, bi alle daies; Where is thi God?
As with a sword in my bones, my enemies reproach me; while they say daily to me, Where is your God?
11 Mi soule, whi art thou sori; and whi disturblist thou me? Hope thou in God, for yit Y schal knouleche to hym; `he is the helthe of my cheer, and my God.
Why are you cast down, O my soul? and why are you disquieted within me? hope you in God: for I shall yet praise him, who is the health of my countenance, and my God.
